


Budapest

by MercuryWilliamson (MementoMoriPontifexMortis)



Series: Avenger's Ficlets Set [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BUDAPEST!!!, Blood, Deaf Clint Barton, F/M, Mentions of Violence, Porn With Plot, Shower Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 14:16:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MementoMoriPontifexMortis/pseuds/MercuryWilliamson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Budapest and shower sex in a SHIELD safe house - well more like a SHIELD outhouse but it's enough for them - and Natasha learns what Clint's been hiding and she also learns more about herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Budapest

**Author's Note:**

> Don't Own. 
> 
> This is really just Clint and Natasha and a shower during the events of Budapest and it becomes sex and it's the start of something for them.

~*~

Natasha groans as her back meets the hard unfamiliar ground, “Damn!” She shouts but she can't be heard through the sounds of battle. 

“Romanov?” She hears Barton mutter through the comm system. “You still on your feet?” 

“No.” She answers tersely, “Not right at the moment.” 

“Well get back on them, you've got soldiers coming in on your 6 and I am currently in the middle of a squadron myself.” If Natasha was a betting woman she would've bet that he was worried about her. 

Still though, “Got it, Barton.” 

Two hours later they sat in a little hovel of a bathroom and began the delicate process of plucking glass and other things out of their wounds. “Got a nasty rock there,” Clint begins and finishes by fishing said item out of her back. 

“Thanks.” She murmurs, rolling her shoulders back before noticing a shard of glass in his shoulder blade, “Stop moving.” She demands and watches as he stills so she can get it gently. 

“It might need stitches.” If only they weren't completely cut off from SHIELD with no way out. 

“I've got needles and thread if you wanna.” Barton says and it takes Natasha a minute before she realises what he's saying. 

“I'm not trained,” She begins, because there's no way she wants to stitch up her partner. “I wouldn't even --” 

He cuts her off, “Just drag the needle through my skin, I won't yell or scream or cry, and if we get it done now, there's no need to tell the medics.” There's a steel look in his eyes and she nods briefly. Natasha watches as he moves slowly, stiffly but surely. They've been partners for all of two years and now, in Budapest, everything changes. 

When he brings the equipment back, she makes note at the small sewing supplies. “What, do you sew on your free time?” She asks with a light voice that she does not feel. He grunts and waits, straight-faced and soft breaths. Threading the needle is fine, she's done that before when her civilian wear gets worn out but the thought that she's going to put this through Barton's skin makes her sick. 

Before, before she was Natasha Romanov, back when she was Natalia Romanova, the Red Room spy she is positive that she would have no problem but now that she is someone different, she feels dread. What if she does something wrong, what if she causes it to get worse, or infected, yet she can't think like that. Barton – no Clint needs her to keep her head, she can't freak out. 

“I'm going to..” She swallows lightly, and waits for his nod of approval before she's placing the needle against the skin and pushing through. Natasha is trying to be her normal level-headed self but her self-confidence is low at this point. The whole mission has gone wrong; they're on the run from their own people, the Hungarian government is trying to kill them and their mark, the ones they were sent to take down, is winning. 

“Is there pain medicine in there?” Clint asks her as she yanks the thread through the skin again, she's only been able to do four stitches but the skin is getting red and irritated. 

“Yeah, um, nondescript pain reliever.” Snorting, Natasha adds, “Wow, SHIELD's not skimping on anything.” 

“You should take some.” He says and Natasha frowns. 

“I'm fine. I wasn't the one who was buried underneath a crumbling building.” She retorts. 

“No, you were the one almost mauled by mutant dogs.” Tilting her head in small agreement, Natasha sighs. 

“Take some yourself.” 

Clint shakes his head, “Can't, they cloud my vision.” He answers. 

“I think we can allow it for right now as we'll be here for quite some time.” Natasha insists, “You need to be all you can be for when we get out of here.” 

“Don't like 'em.”

“Barton, I'm not having you risk my life because you have a fear of medicine.” She says forcefully but not angrily. 

“Romanov!” He shouts and the room becomes quiet. Natasha is tempted to throw a punch at him, but she doesn't. “I. Don't. Take. Anything. That. Can. Mess. With. My. Vision.” 

Feeling rather agreeable today, she nods, “Fine, don't take anything.” And then she's back to pulling the needle through his skin. He grits his teeth as she snags something and quickly, Natasha's apologizing before dabbing the dripping blood with a cotton ball. 

“Have you heard the rumours?” She asks, trying to make small talk because Clint not talking is weird given his mouth is usually running a mile a minute. 

“Which ones?”

“The ones about how you brought me in?” She answers before attempting to tie a knot. 

“You're doing that wrong.” He says and then makes a movement with his hands to show her the right way. “And you mean the ones where we had an epic battle surrounded by bodies of the enemies trying to kill us both after a leak told them that'd we'd be together? Or the ones where I seduced you and then you agreed to come with us because I am obviously that good in the sack?” 

“Both,” She shrugs, “But there's this nice one where I was suicidal and at the end of my rope and you saved me and now I owe you my life for that.” 

“Oh, how cute.” Clint mutters. 

She snorts, “Yeah, but why is it always you that's offering, there's never any stories of me telling you that I'm tired and I'll go with you. It's always you.” 

“Well, I did bring you in, I spared your life and all.” 

Shrugging lightly, she agrees, “Yeah but you forget that I did say that I couldn't do it anymore and that I was tired of running.” 

“But no one listens to that, everyone wants some amazing story of how the Black Widow fell and she needed a prince to save her.” Natasha hits him lightly as he begins to strip off his shirt. “It's true, no good story doesn't have a damsel.” 

With that he climbs in the small shower and Natasha thinks on what he said. While it's true that Clint basically saved her from herself, she's positive that she would've figured something out if he didn't. Plus, Clint defying the rules to save her also saved himself so she doesn't see what's so amazing about that. 

“Why did you ignore your orders?” Natasha asks as she slowly strips off her own dirty and torn clothing. She looks at the civilian clothing they stole in the corner while she waits for him. 

“Because.. you needed an out. Like I told you, you didn't have to stay with SHIELD, you could've done whatever but at that moment you needed someone to help you, you couldn't take down everyone and I was there.” Clint answers a few minutes later. 

Nodding, Natasha climbs into the shower with him as he asks, “Why did you stay?” 

“I saw an out.” She replies, “I've got red in my ledger, I'd like to wipe it out.” 

“Aww, you didn't stay for my personality!” Clint pseudo-whines, pouting slightly. 

The red-head assassin smacks her partner's shoulder once again before smiling, “We'll say that's part of it.” 

The archer smiles before speaking again, “Could you wash my back?” Rolling her eyes, she complies. 

“What's with your hate of medicine?” She inquires. “I understand that you don't like the idea of not being able to see or think right, I have the same problem with pain meds but still, it's like you hate it even more right now.” 

“Natasha...” Clint begins, pausing and then turning to face her. He's frowning and she stops her own movements. 

“... Clint, if something is the matter --” 

“I can't hear you.” He says and Natasha frowns herself. What did he mean? 

“You got some injury to your ears?” She asks, moving to check his ears. “Barton that's something you've got to -” 

“I'm deaf.” He says quickly and she stops. “Well, mostly, I can hear a little, that's how I've been paying attention to you but I really can't hear that well.” 

“Oh.” She breathes. 

Clint turns back to the shower head after a minute and she's left to figure out what this means. He's just trusted her with very important information, something she feels she's should've known about; not because the man's movements are anything but stealthy but because she's the Black Widow, she's supposed to be able to find things out about people just by meeting them yet, Natasha would've never guessed. He moves and breathes and talks and acts like nothing's wrong and she's never even seen him with hearing aids. 

“If you want, we can transfer partners.” Clint states after a few minutes of stiffening quiet. “I can understand that you probably don't trust --” He turns just lightly and before Natasha can figure out what she's doing, she's already brought her lips to his mouth in a kiss. 

They separate when they become breathless and Natasha smiles as he looks at her with surprise. “I don't want another partner.” She whispers before going back in for another kiss. 

Clint moves closer to her, which doesn't take much as the shower is very small, and he wraps his arms around her. She feels his hands caress the small of her back, and Natasha flushes against him. Her body reacts to his touch, breast tightening as he cupped her. 

“If we do this, there's no turning back.” Clint says as he pulls away from her, “If we do this, I don't want it to be a one time thing.” 

Natasha nods as that's all she can trust she can do and before she knows it, his hands are on her thighs, rubbing circles. She supposes that he's doing it for her sake, to remind her that it's her body and she calls the shots. “I know.” She answers after a minute, “I wouldn't want it any other way.” 

“Good.” He says and then he plunges a finger between her legs and Natasha moans his name. Another finger joins and she widens her legs before he drops to his knees. Removing his fingers, Clint replaces it with his mouth because for the last two years, he's wanted to taste her. He's wanted to hear her cry out his name. 

Natasha feels her right leg wrap around Clint's neck while he does amazing, undeniably good things to her and she notices how he doesn't tense up at all at the fact that she's using part of her famous move to hold him into place. Her back hits the wall of the shower with a small thunk but she doesn't care as he brings up two fingers to slip deep inside of her. She gasped softly as he played with her. 

“Clint.” She moans, and before she can finish her release, he's pulled away from her and stood up. 

Frowning, she quickly says, “We don't need a condom.” If it's a little testily as she stomps her feet, then he doesn't say anything. All he does though, is switch their positions and picks her up so she's positioned above his cock. 

“What?” 

“You're in control.” He says simple before she finally gets it and lowers herself on him. She hears him grunt as she buries him as far as he can go. Leaning down to capture his lips, she continues to move up and down – with his help and soon they're both moaning as the hot water pounds on their backs. 

“I trust you.” She says softly in his ear as she goes to kiss his neck, “I trust you a whole lot more than I trust myself.” 

Natasha comes before he does, moaning her release as she forces them to switch positions once again. She feels him push her gently against the wall before he thrusts a few times in her and then he's got her name as a litany against her ear as he comes. They stay, sated, leaning against the wall for a minute before he moves them to sit on the tub's floor. 

“Thanks.” Clint murmurs as she leans on him. 

“And by the way,” Natasha sits up to look at his face, “Our story is fine without a damsel and a prince.”


End file.
